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Authors: Deirdre Martin

Breakaway (36 page)

BOOK: Breakaway
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“God, I’m sorry, I’ve obviously made some kind of mistake,” said Wendy, looking embarrassed. “It’s just—you’re so big like, like Rory—I assumed—”

“I was an athlete?” Jake finished for her smoothly. “Don’t be embarrassed. A lot of people make the same mistake.”

“Christ on a bike,” Sandra marveled. “I’ve heard some whoppers in my day, but that about takes the cake, Jake Fry.” She looked at Wendy. “He’s a sheep farmer.”

Wendy looked impressed. “I’ve never met one before.”

Jake turned to Sandra smugly. “You hear that?”

“Would you all button up for a minute so I can introduce my lovely fiancée to Wendy?” Rory put his arm around Erin. “This is Erin, who is, as previously mentioned, related by blood to both Liam and Quinn O’Brien, as well as a host of other O’Briens both foreign and domestic. For some reason, she wants to marry me.”

Wendy smiled at Erin. “Congratulations! When’s the big date?”

“We’re not sure yet.”

“Well, let me know. I know some fabulous wedding planners in New York.”

Sandra stared her down. “She’s got a wedding planner: me.”

Wendy looked surprised. “You’re getting married here?” she said to Erin. “Well, if you change your plans, let me know. There are so many amazing places to hold a wedding in New York.”

Rory looked mildly sentimental. “Yeah.”

“A friend of mine just got married at The Lighthouse at Chelsea Piers,” Wendy went on, as if Erin would know, or should know, where the hell that was. “It was really beautiful.”

“I’ll bet.”

Erin could feel herself beginning to sink into a mild panic.

“One of the blokes on my team got married at, uh, now let me think…” Rory snapped his fingers. “Central Park Boathouse. That’s it!”

Wendy put her hand to her chest with a small swoon. “That place is so romantic.”

Erin shot a look of warning at Sandra, who she knew was gearing up to say something.

Sandra scowled at her, but at least she got the message. And maybe Rory did, too: he changed the subject from places to tie the knot to hockey.

“I’d never peg you for a hockey fan,” he said to Wendy.

“Nice choice o’ words,” Sandra said under her breath.

Wendy ignored her. “I’m glad we returned to the subject of hockey.” She touched Rory’s shoulder. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you think you could comp me for the season opener? My nephew will be in town, and I haven’t been able to get us tickets.”

Rory shrugged. “Sure, no problem.”

“Thank you so much,” Wendy said gratefully. She paused, biting her lower lip. “One more thing. If it’s not too much.”

“Here comes the part where she asks Rory to be the father of her child,” Sandra said in a stage whisper.

Wendy again pretended not to hear.

“Would you be open to being interviewed for a book? One of my clients is putting together a proposal about foreign players in the NHL, and I thought you’d be perfect for it.”

“Sure.” It was obvious Rory was eating up the attention.

“Great.” Wendy dug into the pocket of her blazer and handed Rory one of her cards. “Call me when you’re back in New York. We’ll meet for a drink.”

Erin tried to ignore her heartbeat’s madly increasing tempo. She was trying to think of something witty to say to Wendy. Something that would show her why Rory had picked her above every other woman on earth to marry. All she was coming up with was a big fat blank.

Rory looked around the bar. “Has PJ stood you up?”

“Not exactly. I’m here to poach him.”

“Poach him?” Jake asked, his gaze still locked on her chest.

“I’m hoping to steal him away from his current agent. I think I can make him a lot more money than he’s currently making.
A lot
more. I want to talk to him about that.”

“He’ll shoot you if you just show up unannounced,” said Jake.

“No, Aislinn will shoot her,” said Erin.

“We’ve already talked over the phone; he knows I’m a friend of Quinn’s. He told me to stop by anytime, so I think I’m going to head over there in a bit.”

“You’re golden if Liam has put in a word for you as well,” said Rory.

“Do you need a lift?” Jake offered solicitously. “It’s on my way home. It’d be no problem.”

“Thanks, but I’ve already got a lift.”

Erin raised an eyebrow. “It’s not Liam, is it?”

“Dear God, no. You couldn’t pay me to get on the back of a motorcycle. Especially on these unlit country roads.” She twisted in her seat, pointing to Old Jack. “No, he said he’d help me out.”

There was a split second of silence, and then everyone round the table collapsed into fits of laughter.

Wendy looked irked at not being in on the joke. “What’s so funny?”

“First off,” said Rory, “he drives a jalopy. If you hit a bump, the doors might well fall off. Second, he owns the bar. You’d have to wait until after closing time for him to take you.”

“And third, his wife would kill you,” said Jake. “I’ll gladly take you,” he repeated, trying to look and sound gallant. “It’s no problem.”

“Are you sure?” asked Wendy. “I really don’t want to be any trouble.”

“Yeah, but see, here’s the thing, Miss Wendy,” said Sandra, tilting her head back as she finished her Black Velvet. “You’re already trouble. You’re flirtin’ with my man, Jake, who’s one second away from drooling on himself because he finds your boobs so magnificent, and you’re flirtin’ with Rory here, who’s engaged. Not once have you asked
me or Erin what we do for a living. Suppose it doesn’t matter, ay? We’re not big and handsome. We can’t further your career, and we’re not powerful enough to get you freebies. We’re invisible to you, two simple Irish country girls.” She looked at Wendy with unconcealed loathing. “Why don’t you just take your bony arse back to the Big Apple, because I, for one, am tired of looking at it. You’ve taken what started out as a great night, and you’ve turned it into total shite.”

Stunned silence crashed down all around them. It was impossible to move, or speak. Finally, Wendy rose. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “The last thing I wanted to do was cause any trouble for anyone.” She looked around the table. “It was very nice to meet you all.” She smiled at Erin. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

“Thank you.”

Wendy walked slowly back to the bar.

35

Sandra drained the dregs of Erin’s drink. “I can’t believe the nerve of that one.”

“I can’t believe your nerve,” said Jake, looking mildly embarrassed.

“What’re you on about?”

“Sandra, you tore the woman to pieces!”

Shocked, Sandra turned to Erin. “Did I?”

“A little bit.”

“A lot,” Jake countered.

“Well, she deserved it! There she is, flirtin’ up a storm, and what do you and your mate here do? Lap it up like two schoolboys! ‘Oh, I’ll drive you home, Wendy!’ ‘Oh, yes, Wendy, I can get you free tickets!’ The woman thinks she’s the end-all and be-all!”

“You’re just jealous,” Rory countered.

Erin turned to him. “Not jealous. Insulted. What do you think it was like for me, the two of you chatting away about places to have
our
wedding?”

“She acted like Erin and I were below her!” said Sandra.

“That’s not true,” Jake mumbled. “But answer me this: why
were you allowed to flirt right under my nose with Esa, and I can’t flirt in front of you?”

“Because it doesn’t work that way.”

Jake scowled. “Who says?”

“I say. In Sandra world, it doesn’t work that way. And if you don’t like it, you can stuff it, Jake Fry.”

Erin leaned over to Rory. “She’s a bit tipsy. I think I should take her home.”

“I agree.”

“Well, I’m with Sandra,” Erin announced. “The night’s turned to total shite, and I, for one, don’t see any point in sticking around.” She tugged on a strand of Sandra’s hair. “Let’s call it a night.”

“Fine with me,” said Jake, looking away.

Sandra rubbed her temples. “Okay. I’ll admit it: I might have had a little bit too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“You can turn into a nasty cow after a few, darlin’, I hate to say it,” said Jake, turning around to take her hand. “It worries me.”

Sandra looked touched. “You’re a sweet one, Jake. I won’t ever flirt with another if you promise you won’t, either.”

Jake kissed her hand. “Deal.”

Sandra suddenly looked weary. “God, I could fall on my face right here. I can’t believe I have to work so early in the morning.”

“I thought you didn’t work Sundays,” said Erin.

“Ah, your mam needed a spot of help. And before you get in my face and tell me she’s starting to work her manipulative charms on me, I want you to know I volunteered. It’s only a bit of polishing the silver and that, things that it’s getting hard for her hands to do. Foldin’ some linen and stacking it in the upstairs linen closet. She doesn’t like to get on that step stool, and I don’t blame her. And, yes, she is paying me.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I suppose you two’re staying?” Sandra said to Rory and Jake. “Continue your adventures with Miss America?”

“Yeah, Jake and I are gonna stay for just a few more and
then we’ll go,” Rory answered, ignoring the Miss America crack.

“You’re already weaving on your feet, Rory,” Erin said worriedly.

“I know. But we’re making up for lost time. You know me, Erin: if I’m too drunk to drive, I won’t, and neither will Jake.”

“Good.”

He squashed her in a big bear hug. “I love you, Erin.”

“And I love you, Rory. I’ll call you in the morning, love.”

*   *   *

“One crack over the head. Two, at the very most. Problem solved.”

Erin heaved a sigh of disbelief as she and Sandra headed out of the Oak into the darkness and drizzle. The door had barely closed behind them and already San was blathering about the cricket bat and how many wallops it would take to bring Wendy to her knees.

“You’ve a real violent streak in you, you know that?” Erin folded her arms across her chest to keep warm. She’d forgotten to bring a jacket, and the drizzle was chilly. “I think if you could commit a murder and get away with it, you would.”

“Damn straight I would. And there’s no need to guess who the victim would be.”

They both chuckled.

“God, I couldn’t stand that woman,” Sandra continued vehemently.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“Right, I’ll admit it: I behaved badly. I may have been a bit harsh on her.”

“A bit? They could use you to break prisoners!”

“But I didn’t like her attitude. What I said was true, Er: she never asked us what we did. Who we were. Yeah, she showed a little interest in your wedding for about five seconds, but then it was back to Rory. It was like we were invisible.”

Erin swallowed. “I know.”

“And just because she wasn’t sticking her tits under their noses doesn’t mean she wasn’t flirting with our men. Did you see Jake, fallin’ all over himself to give her a ride? And Rory looking so pleased with himself because she wants him for some feckin’ book project? Talk about having powers to bewitch men. Made me want to puke.”

Erin put her face up to the rain. She thought,
If I start to cry, San won’t know.

“You know what makes it worse?” Sandra prattled on. “That self-confidence. I mean, a slag, right, she’s only got one thing to offer. A bloke can put a bag over her head and get on with it.”

“Sandra!”

“I’m sorry, I’m not gonna lie. But a woman like that—well, she’s got loads of ways to keep a fella interested, doesn’t she? Both in and out of the sack.”

Erin felt a lump thickening in her throat. “I suppose.”

“I kept thinking about that show,
Sex and the City
—you know, where the women were all smart and smooth, with great clothes? Perfect-looking?
That’s
what she reminded me of.” Sandra paused. “Cow.”

Erin’s chest began to ache. “Can we please change the subject before I get sick?”

Sandra laughed. “Will do.”

Erin wished Sandra was sober. If she was, she wouldn’t be talking like this. She’d realize that everything she was saying was like plunging a dagger in Erin’s heart, making her feel more and more inadequate. There was no way in hell she could ever compete with Wendy Dann, or any other New York women. Tonight had just confirmed it.

BOOK: Breakaway
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